Dynamics
by cookie-monster2
Summary: Three years after the events of 'Meridian,' Daniel returns to confront Sam. S/D
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dynamics  
  
Author: Cookie Monster  
  
Rating: Um, let's say a R for language.  
  
Summary: Three years after the events in 'Meridian,' Daniel returns  
  
to confront Sam. Angst ensues!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate. Because if I did, Jonas would be  
  
the name of Daniel's pet rock. Ahem, artefact.  
  
************  
  
He's traversed the universe with no directions, so there's a certain irony in the fact that he knows exactly where he is, yet for the first time in his life he feels completely lost. He stands outside her office door, a cup of rapidly cooling coffee clenched in his hand, and he realises he has absolutely no idea of what to say to her. No idea of what she's thinking. No idea of what she's going through. No idea of what she feels. She was his best friend, his Major-Doctor, and she may as well be a stranger.  
  
It hurts.  
  
He pushes the feeling aside as he pushes the door open. She doesn't look up, fingers clacking incessantly at the keyboard, eyes focused straight ahead. He takes the moment to study her. Physically at least, little has changed. Same piercing blue eyes, same short blonde hair that at the moment is in disarray, having had impatient fingers raked through it once too often. His fingers itch to sooth it down for her, his hand curling into a fist to stop himself from crossing the room and touching her. She's lost weight. He can tell in the way her cheekbones are more prominent under her skin, the way her uniform bags around her waist. She looks tired. She looks…great. He may have been addicted to the sarcophagus, but he's never known true need until now.  
  
A scrape of chair in the corner, and for the first time he realises she's not alone. His eyes shift sideways and he feels his stomach clench as the man steps out of the shadows that have gathered at the side of the room. Jonas. The man who has just risen from the chair is Jonas. He remembers the brief introduction in the Gateroom, jumbled up as it is with hugs and handshakes and blue eyes practically pinning him to the wall with their glare. He hadn't seen him at first, hadn't been looking. Then maybe she'd stepped back, maybe he'd stepped forward, maybe it was a bit of both, but then he'd seen him. Even without his glasses, he'd seen him clearer than maybe anything he'd seen before.  
  
He'd seen his hand on her shoulder, resting like it belonged there.  
  
They eye each other for a moment, each weighing, measuring, and it's Jonas who finally breaks the silence. "Sam." His voice is low, intimate. Daniel resists the urge to tell him to call her Major. She looks up, back at him, and for a moment a smile plays on her lips, lights her eyes, lifts the tiredness away. Then her eyes shift forwards and the smile dies, wiped out like it never existed in the first place. He feels its loss like a Zat blast to the chest.  
  
He watches, his eyes on hers, as Jonas crosses the room, places his hand on her shoulder, leans his head down to her level. "Do you want me to stay?" He wants to break the hand off at the wrist and force-feed it to him. He wants to yell at him to get out. But he lost the right to do either a long time ago. "No. I'll be okay." Her voice is quiet, her hand steady as it reaches up to cover his. The intimacy makes him feel like he's intruding. Now he understands what Jack must have felt all those years ago.  
  
Lost in the moment he doesn't notice as Jonas walks towards him. But he'd have to be dead not to notice the warning in his eyes. He could tell him not to worry…that he'd never hurt Sam. But they both know he'd be lying. The evidence is staring them right in the face with accusing blue eyes.  
  
He leaves; closing the door quietly behind him, although Daniel's sure he can hear him mentally slam it. The silence is loaded. Screw a knife; you could cut this tension with a dessert spoon. She's avoiding his gaze, staring at a point just over his shoulder as he tries to get his vocal chords to function, reminding himself that he's a skilled linguist; English shouldn't be a problem. Sam is, was, his team-mate, his friend. Talking to her should be easy. Right?  
  
Wrong.  
  
Sam…  
  
Sam, I missed you.  
  
Sam, I thought about you everyday.  
  
Sam, I love you.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
"So. You and Jonas…." He could kick himself as soon as the words leave his mouth, knowing that of all the things he could have picked, all the things he could have said, that had to be the most stupid.  
  
"It's nothing to do with you." Cold voice, frosty eyes. He wants to tell her that she's wrong. And if that doesn't work he wants to beg.  
  
"No. I'm sorry." A shrug. He used to admire her strength. Now, he hates it. "I've been back three days and I haven't seen much of you…"  
  
"I've been busy."  
  
"I know. I was hoping we could talk."  
  
"Funny. I thought that's what we were doing."  
  
"Sam…"  
  
"What do you want from me Daniel?" Now she does look at him. The anger he could take. The hate he could take. But the pain….  
  
"I don't want anything." I want you. "I thought we were friends." Mistake. Anger flashing in her eyes, voice rising.  
  
"You've been gone for three years. What do you expect?"  
  
"Jack…"  
  
"I'm not Jack. He can just pick up where you left off. Fuck that. Fuck you."  
  
"Sam…"  
  
"No, Daniel. You wanted to talk, I'm talking. If it's not what you want to hear then that's your problem." Her fingers starting to move on the keyboard again, her movements jerky, hitting the keys hard.  
  
"I'm sorry." That stops them. But only for a moment.  
  
"Sorry isn't good enough. Not this time."  
  
"I thought you understood…"  
  
"What I understood was that you left. You left without a word. That's not what friends do."  
  
"I needed to go."  
  
"And I needed you to stay. But you never even gave me a chance to tell you."  
  
"It wasn't like that."  
  
"Alright then, tell me. Tell me you were forced to go. Tell me you didn't have a choice."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"And I can't sit here and pretend to forgive you."  
  
Silence except the chatter of the keyboard. He wants to go over there and grab it. He wants to grab her. He wants, has, to make her understand. "If you'd just listen…"  
  
"To what? Excuses? Explanations? You're going to tell me that you had good reasons? Save them for someone who cares. I don't want them, Daniel. I don't want you."  
  
"You don't mean that." Desperation in his voice.  
  
""Yes, I do."  
  
"Sam…" A plea.  
  
"Go away, Daniel." She leans her head back, closes her eyes. He sees the weariness wash over her in a wave. "Go away, and this time, don't bother coming back." Her voice quiet, her tone without bitterness, but backed by steel. More effective than any amount of screaming, swearing. More cutting than any knife. Defeat. He can taste it in his mouth, can feel it in his throat. He's too late. He's lost her. And if he's lost her, he's lost…everything.  
  
"Fine." His voice is choked. He's surprised that he can speak. "I know you hate me, Sam. I may even deserve it. But I'm not going without telling you what I came here to say."  
  
"I don't want to hear it."  
  
"Tough shit." A deep breath, releases it on the count of five. "I love you."  
  
He opens the door and walks away. 


	2. Chapter 2

He hears the coffee cup whistle next to his ear seconds before it crashes into the wall next to his head, splashing scalding coffee across his arm and hand. He glances sideways at the airman who stands across the corridor, almost smiles at the way his mouth hangs slightly open. "If I were you, I'd run."  
  
"You bastard." He doesn't turn to face the speaker, although he can feel the anger rolling off her in waves. "You absolute fucking bastard. How dare you?" The airman takes off at double-time. "It's the truth."  
  
"You're full of shit."  
  
"Not this time." He can feel his own temper beginning to rise, tries to control it. Two people screaming will not help. "I love you, Sam."  
  
"No."  
  
"Don't try and tell me what I feel." Whirling around to face her.  
  
"Fine. Love, Daniel? You want to talk about love? Let's talk about it." She pushes his shoulder, stabbing him as she talks. "You told me once that I didn't know what love was. Well, thanks to you I learnt. I learnt that love is pain. Love is betrayal."  
  
"No."  
  
"Love is crying in the dark at three 'o clock in the morning. Love is forgetting. Each day just before you wake up, and just for a second everything's fine. And then you remember and it happens all over again. I had to feel you die everyday, Daniel. Everyday for three fucking years, so don't you dare come back here and tell me that you love me."  
  
"You think you're the only one that hurt?"  
  
"I think I'm the only one that didn't have a choice. I trusted you and you threw it back in my face."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"I was so stupid. I would have given you anything."  
  
"And now you'd give it all to Jonas?" Jealousy, pain, hurt, making him lash out.  
  
"You selfish bastard." Her hand is clenched into a fist. He braces himself for the impact, knowing that he deserves it. It never comes.  
  
"You know what I hate most? The fact that after three years you still have the power to hurt me."  
  
He sees the glint of tears in her eyes, and then she's gone.  
  
  
  
"You can be a bastard sometimes, you know that?"  
  
"Yeah. Is she okay?"  
  
"She hasn't been okay since you left." Janet settles herself into the chair opposite him, reproach in her voice, in her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry doesn't solve everything. So, what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know what I can do."  
  
"That's bullshit, Daniel." He starts to rise, pushing back in his chair. She surprises them both by reaching over and grabbing his arm, holding him in place. "What? Are you going to run again? Back out the minute things get tough?"  
  
"She wants me to go."  
  
"And if you're just going to settle for that then you're weaker than I thought."  
  
"I hurt her." His throat constricting. "I love her so much, and I hurt her."  
  
"I know you love her, Daniel. Trust me, that's the only reason you're still breathing right now. As it was I had to physically restrain the Colonel from coming in here and busting your ass."  
  
"I deserve it."  
  
"Yes, you do. You made her cry."  
  
"I'm so lost, Janet." Sinking back down, despair evident in his voice. "I can't make her understand."  
  
"Because she's hurt. She's afraid." Her voice gentler. Understanding. "You've been gone three years. Things have changed."  
  
"She's moved on." Bitter.  
  
"To who, Jonas?" A half smile. "Daniel, Sam's been in love with you from the moment she first saw you. That kind of love doesn't just disappear. Under all the hurt, under all the confusion, she still loves you. She never stopped."  
  
"But she doesn't trust me."  
  
"You haven't given her reason to. You can't expect to fix three years of damage in three days."  
  
"I just hoped…"  
  
"What? You expected to come back here and have Sam fall into your arms like you'd never been away?"  
  
"It sounds so stupid when you say it." A wry smile.  
  
"Daniel, if you want her to trust you again, it's going to take time. It's going to be slow and it's going to hurt sometimes. But all you can do is take it day by day."  
  
"If she'll let me near her in the first place."  
  
"She will. After she's stopped throwing things." He winces at the reminder of the coffee cup. "Now, go crawl. She's in her quarters."  
  
He starts to rise, pauses mid-motion. Leans over and kisses her cheek. "When in the last three years did you get so wise?"  
  
"I was always wise. You just didn't listen."  
  
"I missed you as well, you know."  
  
"And I missed you."  
  
A final squeeze of the hands, her voice stopping him as he reaches the doorway. "Daniel? Do it right this time. Or I have a large selection of needles in the infirmary with your name on them."  
  
He turns and smiles. She's not laughing.  
  
************  
  
He knocks at the door. "Sam, open up." No response. "I know you're in there." Silence. He eyes the door doubtfully. Military door vs. newly resurrected archaeologist. He'd lay odds on the door.  
  
He settles for leaning his head against it. "Sam, please. I just want to talk to you." He turns around, catches the eye of one of the infirmary nurses who is non-to-subtly hanging on every word. "Preferably without an audience." No reply.  
  
"Okay, then I guess I'll have to do this the hard way." A deep breath. "Samantha Carter, I love you. I know that's not what you want to hear, and I can understand that, but it's the truth. I've never lied to you Sam, not then, not now." A pause. "I'm sorry I left without saying anything. I'm sorry that I hurt you. But I'm not sorry that I went. I can't be sorry for that because I needed to go. I needed to go for me. And the reason I didn't say goodbye was because I knew that if you'd asked me to stay, I would have." He closes his eyes against the wood.  
  
"So I went. And I knew that you were hurting, because I saw it. You don't know how many times I just watched you. Saw you cry, saw you laugh. And not touching you, not being able to comfort you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. So I left you alone. I saw the universe, Sam. I saw miracles. But then I realised that it all counted for shit if you weren't there to see it with me." He hears something, a slight movement behind the door. Barely daring to hope, he carries on.  
  
"I need you Sam. I need you. You're my best friend. It's all the little things. I love the way you drink your coffee. I love the way we can speak without saying anything. I love the way you roll your eyes when Jack tells a joke. I love the smell of your hair." His voice lowering, almost to a whisper. "I can't promise that I can make everything better. I don't know whether you'll be able to trust me again. But I can promise you that I'll try. I'll try with everything I've got, because what we had, what we've got, is worth fighting for, it's worth everything. You are my everything, Sam. But no matter how much I love you, I can't do this alone. I need you now, more than I've never needed anything, anyone. I need you to fight with me. Please, Sam. Please fight with me."  
  
The sound of the door handle twisting.  
  
As the door swings open, the crowd behind him, the world fades away to a single pair of blue eyes.  
  
And after a moment, he smiles. 


End file.
